The True Story of the Great Neville Longbottom
by THElaughingUNIVERSE
Summary: After five years on the run Bellatrix Lestrange has been located. Rufus Scrimgeour sends in his newest star Auror to bring her in. OneShot.


**The True Story of The Great and Terrible Neville Longbottom**

_Everyone has heard the name Neville Longbottom. There was a point when his name was on the cover of the Daily almost every other day. That point was during the great war, when Voldermort still ravaged England. When the deatheaters were still strong and united; when evil lurked behind every window and every door and nobody was safe._

_News of another disappearance came all the time. Families were lost, obliterated completely. Homes were buried, children were taken and never seen again._

_Neville Longbottom was the last person anyone expected to step up and take a stand._

_Some of my classmates tell me their parents think that Neville wouldn't have gotten anywhere without the friendship of Harry Potter. "Friends in high places" is how the saying goes._

_There, another name everyone knows. Harry James Potter; the man who was the Boy Who Lived; destroyer of the Dark Lord, Savoir of the Wizarding World, and a number of other titles he detests. A few people believe that Neville would still be a nobody if his friends hadn't been somebody's. Those few people are widely considered…disagreeable._

_Oddly enough the Malfoy's are not among them._

_On the other side of Neville's skeptics are the people who say Harry never could have defeated the dark lord without Neville's help._

_Everyone else just thinks he's great. _

_The problem is, as famous ad well like as he is, Neville has proved over the years that he is a solitary creature. I don't think I've ever seen a reporter who's managed to get so much as a photograph of him let alone a statement or an interview. So naturally, when a celebrity keeps to themselves all the time, the public gets curious. Since they don't know anything for certain they make it up. _

_Rumors, we've all heard them. Or different versions of the same ones. Some of them are true, some of them aren't. Some of them are just borderline of fairytales. Of course, anyone can look up old daily prophet articles to find out what's real and what's not. But some of the rumors are tales of things he did that never made the news at all. Great heroic deeds, things bigger than apprehending death eaters and dark wizards. Stories of his terrible power. He has become to us what superhero's are to muggles. _

_All of these things collaborated to earn him the title "Great." People believe what they want to and leave it at that._

_Well I know a different story. One that hasn't been told before. I know the facts and the intimate details that rumors and the Daily Prophet would lack. _

_I know the true story of the Great Neville Longbottom. _

†

'_Rufus Scrimgeour, Head Auror, Department of Magical Affairs' _read the little golden letters plastered across the door. It seemed like they should have been shinier, or more golden, or magiced to look more impressive. But they were just plain metal letters, dull and chipping.

Still, they were probably the most daunting thing Neville had seen during his career at the Ministry so far. Except perhaps encounters with Scrimgeour himself. Which was why he was here, standing in front of the heavy wooden door like a lost puppy looking for a home.

_Why am I so afraid of this?_

Because it was the big man himself behind that door. Because he had only just graduated his auror training a month ago. Because the only reasons he could think of for the Head Auror to want to see him were all bad. _Have I done something wrong? Broken a rule I forgot about? I was never very good with remembering things._

What would be worse though, walking into the office like a Gryffindor to take his punishment? Or being discovered cowering outside the door?

The second one. Neville steeled himself and knocked on the hard wood. He didn't like being called a coward, and even less, he didn't like feeling like one. He was a Gryffindor and Gryffindors didn't back down.

He still felt like he'd swallowed an iron cotton ball when the door opened.

"Ah, Neville, there you are." Rufus Scrimgeour was seated behind a large cluttered desk in the middle of the room. Concentration wrinkles lined his forehead from the paper work over the years. One great old scar ran down across his left eye; the work of a _sectumsempra _Neville was told. Gray hair combed back carefully matched the scruff on his chin.

Rufus Scrimgeour was an intimidating man by more than reputation. His voice was gravelly and gruff.

"I received your memo." Neville imagined forcing liquid steel into his voice where it could solidify to steady his words. "You wished to speak with me?" There, that had sounded almost confident.

"Yes, please have a seat." One gnarled hand gestured at the empty chair in front of the desk.

Neville sat down. His first instinct was to grab his knees and squeeze them like oranges to keep from shaking. He changed his mind, knowing that would make him look frightened and awkward and opted for folding his hands in his lap instead.

"Tea?" Scrimgeour lifted his own cup as if to prove he could make good of the offer.

Tea? So he could tremble and spill it all over him? "No thank you."

"Very well." Here it came. _Neville Longbottom, you have smashed these dozen very important rules to small itty, bitty pieces and we are going to have to revoke your auror's license as a result. Or imprison you. Or execute you for unacceptable misconduct._ "Then to business." _The business that we have discovered you to be a blundering idiot and a scatterbrain besides. The penalty is public humiliation and your career. _"I'm sure you're aware of your parent's positions as aurors in their time."

All inner commentary ceased.

"Yes."

Auror Scrimgeour nodded, looking thoughtful. "And I assume your grandmother told you who was responsible for their torture?" A look of sympathy crossed his face. Neville tried to pretend it wasn't there.

"Bellatrix Lestrange." Neville winced inwardly at how hoarse and broken the whisper sounded. And then he was surprised the words that left his mouth at all. When was the last time he had spoken the name out loud?

"Bellatrix Lestrange." Scrimgeour echoed almost as softly. "Until now she has managed to evade us completely. For the past five years she has been missing." Missing was an understatement. Bellatrix had become little more than a phantom, scattering vague sightings and rumors. Scrimgeour opened a drawer and pulled out a thick file folder. "Until now." He said, dropping the folder on the desk. It landed with a menacing 'thump'. "Our intelligence picked up her trail last month. They finally followed it here." He handed Neville a paper from the top of the file.

Disbelief.

That was…impossible.

The paper was a photo of Godric's Hollow, or what was left of it. Looking at it Neville could see the dark tinge of the new wards Bellatrix must have threaded around the place. He looked up weakly at his superior.

"How?" he asked.

Scrimgeour shook his head. Which, Neville supposed, could be considered a shrug considering whom he was talking to. Rufus was as polite and proper as they came; a shrug was neither of those things. "We don't know." he explained.

Neville swallowed and tried to control the horrible whirling of his thoughts. Anger and sadness reared up near the surface and coiled around each other. Just beneath them the slight worry of what he would do with this information arose. He would have to tell Harry.

"Sir, I don't see what this has to do with me."

"You mean you don't understand why I'm bothering to consult you first before sending in a force of aurors armed to the teeth." Rufus corrected him. "The reason is this Neville; Bellatrix has done the unforgivable to you and your family. You deserve justice." He leaned back, calm, putting emphasis on his next words. "And you deserve to be that justice."

Neville's mouth very nearly fell open. "Sir, I…I.." he sputtered.

"Neville I want you to lead the attack team to Godric's Hollow."

It was fine with Neville if Scrimgeour wanted to send in a team of competent aurors to take care of Bellatrix. It was fine that the old man wanted someone who understood the issue to lead that team. But…_why me!_

"Sir that would be bias."

"We are dealing with deatheaters here Mr. Longbottom." Scrimgeour said, reverting to the use of Neville's last name again. "I have little sympathy for them and I would be hard pressed to find an unbiased witch or wizard to do the job. Doubly so since it's your parents we are talking about here. Frank and Alice had many friends in and out of the ministry." Neville kept quiet, he couldn't think of anything to say. "They were greatly loved. And they were two of the best and bravest people we had. So to reiterate, I want to in the lead of the attack team. Go and bring her in Neville. Use whatever means you deem necessary. If she comes back in a body preservation spell that's fine with me."

Had the head auror just indirectly told him he had permission to kill someone? "Sir…"

"Do you accept Neville?"

Could he decline a mission from Scrimgeour? Was he allowed?

Did he want to?

_No._

"I accept." he said quietly. Scrimgeour nodded with satisfaction.

"Good, you depart tonight. Go home, make whatever preparation you need to make. Rendezvous with the rest of the group at 9:00 sharp in the courtroom."

Neville stood and bowed, feeling like he was moving in slow motion. "Thank you sir. I hope to do you proud."

For the first time since Neville had walked into the office Scrimgeour smiled, a real genuine smile. "You will Neville." he said. "I have heard promising things. Good luck Mr. Longbottom."

†

Green eyes regarded him from across the kitchen table. So far they had only widened in surprise before returning to their usual collected brilliance. None of the anger Neville had been expecting lingered.

"So she set up new wards?" asked Harry. His voice was perfectly calm. Neville supposed that was part of Harry's job as a war leader, but it still unnerved him to see his old friend so mellow all the time. Neville wondered if Harry really did feel that relaxed or if he was pretending out of habit. "How do you plan to get around them?"

Neville blinked.

_That's what he's worried about? The most wanted deatheater in England has corrupted his childhood home and he's worried about how I plan to get inside? _Logically that made no sense. Yet in a way it seemed just like Harry.

"I actually…I don't know." Neville confessed. The weight that had been pressing on his chest since that afternoon doubled. "I could try and break them. Scrimgeour is sending a large number of powerful wizards with me." All of them hand picked by the head auror himself. _And all of them are under my command._ "But that would give away our presence. I could try a diversion too, but even that…" Neville stopped. Was that the answer? He looked up to see Harry grinning at him.

"So what amazing revelation had the great Neville Longbottom just had?"

Neville blushed but pushed ahead anyway. This was Harry, his friend. He had nothing to be embarrassed about. "Harry, what wards were on Godric's Hollow before?"

Harry seemed confused by the question. "Concealment wards." he answered. "Dark magic sensors, alarms. The keep charm obviously, but that was broken when Peter betrayed it's whereabouts. Mild memory charms, for muggles. Blood magic…" There it was. Neville raised a hand to stop Harry.

"That was just what I wanted to hear." Blood magic, he wouldn't have asked for a better loophole. Harry kept smirking.

"Do I get to know this wonderful plan of yours? Or are you going to leave me in the dark?"

Neville chuckled, everything fell neatly into place in his mind.

"Me? Leave the Great Harry Potter in the dark? I wouldn't dream of it. Actually I was hoping you would want to help…?"

Harry's only response was a bigger grin.

†

The atmosphere in the courtroom could only be described as tense. Every nerve was on edge. Every focus wired on a single thing.

It would have been more exciting if that single thing hadn't been him.

Eyes turned to him as he stood and made his way tot a convenient part of the courtroom where everyone would be able to hear him. He frowned as he realized that a few people were craning their necks. All the determination in the world apparently couldn't change the face that he wasn't all. Neville looked around him and stepped onto a chair.

Several of his onlookers blinked. Harry Potter grinned at him from his own very unnoticed corner of the room. Harry folded his arms and leaned back against the wall reader to enjoy whatever speech Neville had prepared to the fullest.

Neville had to stop himself from smiling back at the last minute. Right now he was the only one in the room who could actually see Harry. His friend had cloaked himself upon entering the ministry. It was a part of the plan.

The unfortunate thing about plans was that they often went awry. Mainly because certain parties let certain knowledge's slip (whether by accident or not) and then that knowledge got passed on to the wrong people.

There were two ways, as far as Neville knew, to prevent this. One: Don't let anyone know anything until the last possible second. There were many flaws with this idea as then details could easily be forgotten. Two: Spread the plan apart. Tell a person only what _they_ needed to know and keep the number of people aware of the entire plan to a minimum. This left more room for sudden change and less for betrayal.

Neville gave Harry's corner another glance. He thought he had done pretty well with that last tactic.

He took a deep breath and spoke.

"You are all here by either you own will to volunteer or by Mr. Scrimgeour's orders." Neville noticed his voice sounded stronger when it was magnified by the acoustics of the large courtroom. "Bellatrix Lestrange, you all know her name, has been located. It is the job of every single person in this room to bring her in." Every single person in the room accounted to about twelve, not counting Harry.

No one asked why twelve people were needed to apprehend one death eater.

"It has also been the judgment of powers higher than myself," and crazier "that I am to lead this force. In case anyone is confused by that, that makes it your business to follow. I will not accept questions. Be ready for anything and be flexible." Neville didn't think he knew of any plan in the history of his own life hat had gone _exactly_ according to design. "We will arrive at midnight. The anti apparation wards Bellatrix has set up will prevent us from getting immediately inside and all the alarms placed on the house by it's previous owners have likely been twisted to serve her. I don't believe Bellatrix to be alone, she will have allies with her. There is no way we can get past the wards unnoticed. Plan on being attacked."

It probably seemed like a straightforward, gun ho, simple strategy. Which was what Neville wanted everyone to believe. They couldn't condemn him for iit anyway; greater wizards than himself had been forced to fall back on the menial.

"At the first threat of casualties _get out._" He made the last two words extra sharp and clear.

Neville didn't wait for anyone to object. He drew out his wand. His "team" followed suit.

"We leave now. Are all my orders understood?" _I can't believe I'm even giving orders.._

A strong chorus of "yes sir's!" surprised him.

Harry stood straight in his corner, meeting Neville's eyes. Harry was the only one who hadn't drawn his wand yet. He nodded (it could have been a gesture of reassurance or one of agreement, Neville couldn't be sure) and vanished.

Neville looked around at the determined faces. "To Godrics Hollow!"

The courtroom filled with the cracks of dissaparation. Neville waited until everyone else was gone before fixing the vision of Godric's Hollow in his mind and releasing his magic.

The world spun and compressed, and yanked him every which way, and dropped him on his feet in the grass. Neville automatically fell to a crouch when he landed. Seeing eleven other wizards who had done the same. He motioned at them and they spread out, creating an even circle around the house.

Neville considered giving a silent signal for a moment, but tossed the idea. He wasn't relying on the element of surprise here; he wanted this to act as a distraction. Distractions were usually noisy. In fact the nosier the better.

He aimed his wand and waited.

A light breeze touched his shoulder. _Harry's in place._

"NOW!" he bellowed. An amazingly unified shout of "_Reducto!"_ echoed in the dark. Twelve dark red curses shot straight into the warded walls of Godric's Hollow.

The curses hit the wards and were swallowed.

No lights came on in the house. No yells of surprise or rage came from within. Figures in black swept out of the doors and windows, rushing onto the lawn. Neville felt the grim satisfaction of knowing his estimate had been right.

_The wards won't allow anyone but Bellatrix to use magic in the house. _

Godrics Hollow was old and had been tied to the Potter family for generations. The inheritance had been passed down so many times it was partially engraved into the actual house itself, and thus into the wards. It would be impossible for anyone outside of the Potter lineage to completely remove the magic. Bellatrix had been forced to warp them instead. She had tricked them into believing she was part of the Potter family. Her magic would work inside the house, but she didn't have enough power over the house to make it recognize the death eaters as friendly. The most she could do was grant them admittance.

Neville dove sideways and rolled to avoid a curse that was hurtled in his direction. A counter curse automatically left his wand. The death eater was blasted back against the wall with the force of it. His form slipped to the ground unconscious. Neville turned to the rest of the fight.

A few yards to his left he noticed a death eater charging at him. He spun to meet him and was just in time to see the death eater lurch and cry out as if he'd been punched in the mouth. The sizzled light of a stupefy materialized out of nowhere and hit him square in the chest before he could recover.

Neville raised a shield charm to block another curse. The spell rebounded back at its castor. The death eater screamed and clutched what was left of his hand and crumpled. Neville fired a stunning spell to be safe.

Someone grabbed his collar from behind. Halfway through firing his elbow into his attackers face Neville felt himself spin out of control. Then he was in the living room of Godrics Hollow crouched low on the floor.

Harry released Neville's collar. Neville could see Harry now. Either the apparation had terminated the cloaking spell or Harry had. Sharp green eyes swam with the emotions they had been missing earlier. _So he is angry._ Harry drew out his wand and stood cautiously. His left hand dripped blood slowly to the floor from a slice across the palm.

That was the trouble with blood magic, it required blood.

A small drop landed on the floor and began glowing a curious shade of blue. Neville stared at it and suppressed a shudder. He wondered what Harry had done with the knife.

Harry closed his eyes, a blank look sweeping over his face. "She's in the library." He whispered. Neville nodded.

Harry Potter took three steps away and vanished again with his eyes still closed. Neville heard his soft footsteps as he walked away.

Harry's job was to wake up his childhood home from its mourning sleep. The wards had already accepted him. But there was a deeper magic in the house that only the Potter heir could stir.

Neville stood, reminding himself he had his own job to do. Bellatrix was here somewhere. _Not somewhere, in the library._

Neville had often wondered what Godric's Hollow was like. Because Harry didn't like the thought of living where his parents had died, Neville had never gotten the opportunity to see it for himself. As part of the Potter inheritance he had always imagined it to be grand. And it was.

Grand and lonely. The whole house had taken on the personality of a morbid child dressed in his Sunday best. Red and gold ornament and tapestries lined the walls; brilliant in memory but faded with dust. Picture and photographs stood still, the occupants looking morose and half asleep. They didn't notice Neville at all as he passed. He shivered when he passed one of Lily and James on their wedding day, they weren't smiling anymore. The walls themselves were a rich dark brown color and seemed to sag inward tiredly.

Even if he hadn't known the story (though how could he not) Neville would have known just from the look of the place that some great tragedy had happened here.

He followed the hallway down, ignoring the stairs and doors that led off in other directions. Harry had made sure that Neville knew the layout of the house from memory before they had left for the courtroom. If Bellatrix was in the library then that was where Neville would go.

Cold wood chilled him through his shirt when he pressed his back to the wall as he approached the library. He knew it was probably a useless effort. First he was hardly the most stealthy person in the world auror training or not. And second, Bellatrix had fooled the house into thinking she was part of the rightful bloodline. The house would have already alerted her to his presence.

"Ah, ah! Who is this naughty mouse hiding outside my door?" Neville had to close his eyes for a moment; he hadn't heard that voice since his fifth year at Hogwarts. "It should be more careful. A mouse who shows himself is often caught."

And a man who didn't deserved to be called a mouse.

Neville stepped into the doorway, back straight.

Bellatrix Lestrange smiled a lazy smile at him from her armchair. She didn't look like a fugitive who had been running from the law for five years. Her hair was brushed neatly back, her face was full. Her clothes were immaculate and not in the least bit threadbare. It was her eyes that really surprised Neville though. They were half lidded and shone with unnatural light, something not entirely sane.

"Neville Longbottom. I did not expect the wolves to send you my pup." She spoke like the most lucid person in the world reciting poetry. A shiver ran up Neville's spine. "It has been many moons. And you have grown up so nicely I see. You parents would be proud."

The last line struck a chord in Neville he'd forgotten he had. _Don't listen._ He commanded himself even as traces of anger began to rise. _She's baiting me, trying to get me to act out of rage. I can't let that happen._

"I have come to take you in Bellatrix." He said calmly. He realized how personal the words had sounded.

"Come to beg for death Longbottom?" A cold sneering familiar voice made Neville whip around.

"Draco!"

_Impossible._ Draco Malfoy was dead. Killed by Voldemort a year ago.

"You're dead."

A wry smile slid across Draco's face, it never reached his eyes. "I was given an extension. Courtesy of the Dark Lord to complete a few necessities." He spread his hands wide to gesture that he was, obviously, still very much alive.

Neville couldn't explain the relief that tingled his fingertips. Or the cold emotion he couldn't name that froze his throat. He turned back to Bellatrix. Somehow he felt safer with his back to Draco that with his back to her.

The look on Bellatrix's face spelled murder in capital letters. She was glaring at the Malfoy heir as if he had fed her first born to thestrals. Apparently she hadn't agreed with Voldemort's decision to keep Draco alive.

"The Dark Lord should have killed you ages ago Malfoy." she hissed.

Draco didn't blink. "Who are you to contest his decisions Lestrange?" he asked coldly. "A half crazed pawn he kept cradled in his palm for the past five years? The Dark Lord decided to spare me, it is no place of yours to argue." The words "Dark Lord" seemed oddly foreign to Draco's vocabulary. Neville couldn't speak he was so overcome with confusion.

"He wouldn't have spared your life if you hadn't pleaded with him so."

Draco's gray eyes flashed. For just a second, Neville wondered if Bellatrix really was the more dangerous of the two. "I never plead with anyone. Least of all you Bellatrix. I made a deal with our lord and he accepted."

_Something is wrong._ Something was wrong with Draco. And more was wrong with this situation. He had come expecting Bellatrix to be alone. _I don't know why I can't follow my own damn advice. "Be ready for anything." I said. Now look at me._

Neville stepped back. He froze at the feeling of Draco's wand on the back of his neck.

"Easy Longbottom." Draco sneered. "Sorry if our bickering bored you, but I think we are ready to accommodate you now." Bellatrix did not look keen on the idea of giving up her argument with Draco. Neville wondered what had happened to make her hate him so much.

Neville whirled and caught Draco in the face with his elbow. The Malfoy heir, to his credit, didn't cry out as he stumbled back. A red mark bloomed on his pale face but Draco made no move to touch it. His eyes narrowed.

"You dare assault an armed enemy without drawing your wand?" The question rang false somehow.

"You're not armed Malfoy." Neville said. "I know just as well as you that Bellatrix is the only one who can work magic in this house."

"Just the same Longbottom, you've walked right into your own demise."

Neville blinked. That had sounded less like a threat and more like a warning.

"Your assault force is faltering Neville." Bellatrix's voice cut through the haze. Even now, when both Bellatrix and Draco were focusing on him, a note of discord hung in the air. Neville grabbed onto that note and clung to it. "They are already retreating."

Bellatrix stood, her movement smooth, languid, like a serpents. She held her wand loosely in one hand. Neville reach over and rubbed his left arm as if it were a nervous habit. Bellatrix took no extra notice of the gesture and Neville felt the small metal sphere drop into his waiting palm.

It was a containment charm, he'd stashed it in a small harness up his sleeve earlier that day.

Bellatrix was walking forward now. Neville forced his muscles to relax. He refused to back down, and he refused to show fear.

"How would you like to join your noble parent's Neville?"

He wouldn't, and he didn't plan to.

Neville flicked his wrist, tossing the silver sphere at Bellatrix. White light exploded, weaving a cage around her. She screamed. Green and Red flashed in from the walls, colliding violently with the containment spell. The white light shattered.

Silver flashed on it's way to the floor. The sphere landed in two even pieces.

"A trivial thing like a cage," Bellatrix hissed. "cannot keep me. Did you think you were clever pup?"

Not really. The clever part of his plan didn't come until later. It was getting to that part of the plan that would be hardest. He knew what he was going to have to survive first.

_Harry would have throttled me if I'd told him I'd be doing this._

"_Crucio!_"

Even with the knowledge it was coming Neville wasn't ready. There were some things that couldn't be prepared for.

Someone was screaming. Neville crashed to his knees. Fire melted his veins from the inside, acid seeped out of his own bones. His muscles were being flayed apart.

Distantly, Neville realized the screaming was his. He realized that however painful he knew this was, it always seemed worse when the pain actually came. Distantly, he knew he was satisfying Bellatrix's sadism with his screams.

Closer to home, he didn't care.

Someone was speaking. A soft undertow, barely worth listening too. Neville forced himself to listen.

"Stop! If he looses his sanity any information he gives us will be useless!"

"Don't fool yourself boy. Longbottom would sooner die than betray any of his friends." A harsh laugh. "And I wouldn't mind granting him that wish."

_I can't die yet!_ The thought broke through the pain.

He twisted, curling in on himself, seeking darkness and relief. Neville relaxed and rode the pain like a wave.

"Bellatrix stop!"

Something swished through the air over Neville's head. He heard the dull thud of something being embedded in the wall.

Then the pain was gone and he was lying flat on the floor, panting and shaking like a sick puppy. Neville pushed himself up with trembling arms. He forced himself to look up.

Bellatrix's eyes were cold and sharp, like the knife sticking out of the wall behind her. A thin line of blood ran across her cheek, testament to her reflexes.

Had Draco thrown that knife?

Bellatrix raised her wand higher, over Neville's head.

"You have interfered for the last time Draco." She hissed. "The dark Lord may have been benevolent, but I have to reason to be. I will not tolerate you're weakness. _Avada Kedevra!_" The entire room flashed with a sickly green light.

The curse wasn't aimed at him. It was aimed at someone else.

Somehow, in that second, it never occurred to him that that someone else was Draco Malfoy, another death eater. It never occurred to him that maybe life without Draco wouldn't be so bad.

Neville launched himself sideways, colliding with Draco's mid section. Gravity bore them both to the ground. He heard Draco's grunt when they landed as the air was knocked from his lungs.

The curse slammed into the wall inches above them, splintering apart in a shower of wood and sparks. Neville rolled off Draco.

Bellatrix stared at him. She inclined her head.

Rough arms grabbed Neville from behind. His arm was twisted painfully. He bit back a yell and fought back. He kicked backwards, driving his foot into someone's knee cap. The death eater howled in pain and released him. Neville whirled and kicked the man again in the stomach. The man collapsed on the floor, clutching his broken ribs.

Thick ropes shot out of nowhere and bound him. Hissing a curse, Neville overbalance and slammed back to the ground.

How could I forget! Of course the others would return after the others retreated. He'd screwed up again. 

Draco fell to his knees to Neville's right with a little more grace that Neville had been able to manage. His blonde hair was bloodied from a crack in the head. A tiny stream trickled down his face.

"Take them downstairs." Bellatrix ordered. "Seal them with this." She tossed one of the death eaters a newly restored silver orb. "I shall deal with them presently."

Neville twisted in his bonds, they were pinching him painfully. He and Draco were dragged, pushed and thrown none to gently, down two flights of stairs and onto a cold basement floor. The ropes fell away and a silver orb bounced at their feet. It rose and wrought its white web. Neville rubbed his arms and stared at it morosely.

_If this isn't the irony of all ironies._

He looked over see Draco Mafloy lying calmly on his back with one arm thrown over his eyes. _He's changed._ Being dead for a year had done something to Draco, he was no longer the spoiled brat Neville remembered from Hogwarts. He was something a good deal more dangerous.

"Draco?" he asked hesitantly. He wasn't sure how to act in this situation. They'd both been contained for attacking Bellatrix. Did that make them allies? Or bitter acquaintances with reluctantly similar interests?

"What is it Longbottom?" Draco's cool voice drawled. Neville blinked at the lack of a scathing comment to accompany his name.

"Why did you save me?" Neville waited for a denial, or a lecture on his uselessness. Instead Draco slid his arm down his face enough to reveal on eye.

"Someone's got to be around to give that bitch a hard time." It was like being punched in the stomach, hearing those words come out of the mouth of Draco Malfoy. However much Draco might hate Neville he obviously hated Bellatrix more.

"What about Voldemort?"

"What about him? Voldemort's a spoiled, power drunk child who's going to destroy the world because his daddy didn't hug him enough." Neville was staring openly.

_What happened to you?_ If Draco wasn't loyal to Voldemort than why was he here? Family loyalty?

Draco sighed in frustration and sat up. "I'd make peace with whatever regrets you might have Longbottom because Bellatrix doesn't plan on letting us see tomorrow morning." He turned his head aside and muttered something along the lines of "Halfbood twit." Neville could only assume he was talking about Voldemort.

Another question rose in Neville's mind. Maybe it would answer a few of his other questions as well. "Draco, why did Voldemort spare your life?"

Gray eyes cast a suspicious glance in his directions. Neville shifted uncomfortably on the damp floor. _Right, just because we were temporarily joined against the same thing doesn't mean we're best buddies. _Not that Neville had the desire to be best anything's with Draco.

"He needs my body." Draco answered after a long paused. "I guess he didn't want it rotting away while he got ready to use it."

Draco had always possessed a twisted sense of humor. _But he's not joking now._ "What?"

"The body Voldemort acquired from the ceremony the year of the Triwizard tournament, while allowing him to take physical form, is still fairly weak. Because it's a magically manifested body and not a natural one it takes a certain amount of magic just to sustain it." Draco explained wearily. He gave Neville a look that could almost be described as bored. "If he takes my body then he can use his powers to their full extent again."

So the Voldemort that had the entire wizarding world quaking in fear was capable of more? _Oh…oh that's not good._ "But, why your body?" Neville asked when he couldn't think of anything else to say.

"I don't know. Maybe he thinks I'm pretty." This time there was a distinct note of bitterness in Draco's voice. He brought his knees up, curling his arms around them. "I've accepted the fact that I'm going to die by his hand."

Accepted! Who accepted something like that! Not Draco Malfoy! "Accepted it!" Neville burst out. "Why would you accept it! You're just going to let him take over _your_ body and use it to kill innocents?" The thought was sickening. Neville would sooner kill himself than let that happen to him.

Annoyance flashed across Draco's features. "Well I wasn't planning on just kneeling at his feet like an obedient dog." he snapped. "Of course I'm going to put up a fight. Why do you think I delayed it? I needed time to think of a plan of action to prevent it. So far all of the idea's I've come up with still end in my own messy death." So that was what he meant. "Besides, me verses thirty other death eaters and the most powerful dark lord in a century?" Draco turned his head away in disgust. "Yeah, that will go well."

"And it never occurred to you that you could get away? That you could escape? Draco, you're obviously not his little slave anymore, come back with us! Repent! Even with the dark mark there are ways…"

"First of all." Draco barked, stopping Neville's sentence short. "I was never his "little slave", I was a frightened child with no where else to turn." Draco refused to look at Neville as he spoke. "Second, even if I tried to come back, with all the crimes Voldemort and other death eaters have blamed on me I would be incinerated the moment I tried to step foot anywhere near the ministry. And third, I'm not marked."

"Draco, you could still…what?"

Draco's gray eyes stared dully at the floor. "I'm not marked." he repeated. "I wasn't going to let the slimy halfblood sour excuse for a wizard mar _my_ beautiful skin with _his_ revolting symbol. A skull? Disgusting. Even if I wanted a tattoo, it would not be a skull. Snakes are one thing, but I don't feel the need to celebrate the bodies decomposition after death by using my body as a canvas."

Neville didn't know what to say. A strange out of place sensation was rising in the pit of his stomach.

He started laughing. Then he kept laughing, aware of Draco looking at him horrified a few feet away.

"Neville, did that _crucio_ get to you after all or were you always a crackpot?"

Neville stopped laughing. Draco had just called him by his first name. _What freaky dimension have I entered?_

"I'm sorry, I'm just…"

"Completely barmy, yes, I can see that for myself."

Neville shook his head. "No, relieved." He leaned forward earnestly, looking Draco in the eye. "Draco, what if I told you I have a way for us to get our of here?"

"I'd tell your mediwitch to up your meds." Draco replied.

"I'm serious. I can get us out of here." Draco was shaking his head.

"If you could get out why would you let yourself be dragged down here in the first place?" he asked. "And your position hasn't changed since we got here." Draco blinked and wrinkled his brow. "And why would you let yourself be tortured for that matter?" Draco's words weren't cruel, just logical.

"Because I couldn't think of anyway around that." Draco should be able to appeciate that. After his story about Voldemorts plan to steal his body. Draco cocked his head, listening.

"Okay." He said when nothing else was forthcoming. "Let's say you do have a way out of this hell hole, why would you trust me? I've never done anything to merit your help."

"You saved my life." Neville pointed out. "And besides, it's more a case of you trusting me."

Draco sighed. "Well I'm not stupid. I'll take what I can get." He looked up at Neville. "I don't like the idea of owing a life debt to a fool like you but it's loads better than dying a pointless bloody death. " Draco stood and brushed the dust from his clothes. "So how exactly is this going to work?"

_How much should I tell him?_

"Have you ever heard of blood magic?" Draco's head snapped around so fast Neville thought it was a miracle it didn't break.

"Potter's parents used blood magic?" Draco made the idea sound more than impossible, he made it sound wrong. Neville could see the Slytherin making several connections at once behind his gray eyes. "Blood magic is considered a dark art."

"I don't think it was Harry's parents. I think it was his great great grandfather or somebody. One of the Potter ancestors." Neville realized that it wasn't his place to give Draco Harry's family history and promptly shut his mouth.

Draco was nodding. "I see. Back in Merlin's time blood magic wasn't considered dark. It wasn't considered anything, it was just a part of life. Blood was the next best thing next to a life sacrifice." Draco chuckled. Actually chuckled, a most un-Slytherin like trait. "So you brought Potter with you then. Bellatrix will have fit when she finds out." A toothy grin spread across his face. "I can't wait."

"Hopefully she won't have time to throw anything." Neville didn't much like the idea of Bellatrix having a fit. "Are you ready?" he asked Draco. "Once we break this web Bellatrix will know I can use magic and it's all uphill from there." The death eaters wouldn't be able to use their magic. But Neville had a feeling Draco wouldn't be able to either. Repentant or not, he was still a dark wizard.

Draco nodded.

"_Finite Incantatem!"_ The web sprung apart, swirling back into the sphere.

Neville took off running as soon as the white bars were out of his way. Draco did the same behind him. The floor was damp and slippery under his feet and keeping his balance was a challenge until he reached the stairs. They took the stairs two at a time, and Neville could have sworn the door blew open before he could blow it open himself. He fired the first spell that came to mind when he reached the next level. "_Stupefy!_" One death eater down. Neville's heart was pounding with adrenaline.

Draco slipped up next to him and cracked a broom handle down on one of the death eaters that came at them from the side. Neville didn't bother to wonder where Draco had gotten it.

"This way!" he yelled, charging up the next flight of stairs now that their guards were taken care of. They needed to reach the top before the death eaters could meet them halfway.

Shouts of alarm were already starting through out Godric's Hollow. Bellatrix knew they were out.

The door flew open again before Neville could kick it open and he and Draco charged into the living room.

"The hallway!" Draco hissed in his ear. "They won't be able to get at us more than two at a time." Neville followed Draco into the hallway and positioned himself at his partners back.

They stood like that, back to back, and met the oncoming slew of death eaters. Neville fired spells left and right when he had the time, and used his fist when he didn't. The constant, _crack, crack_ behind him made him think Draco was doing alright with his broomstick.

"_Sectumsempra!_"

Neville and Draco dove to opposite sides of the hallway as the curse rocketed past them. Neville felt the heat of it on his face. At least one death eater screamed after failing to duck out of the way. Bellatrix burst into view, livid. She hissed something inaudible and another curse Neville didn't recognize shot from her wand.

"_Protego!_" Draco must have said the spell instinctively because Neville had been quite certain Draco's magic was useless in Godric's Hollow. He blinked with two realizations when Bellatrix's curse rebounded off an invisible wall and back at her. One: Draco could use his magic. And Two: Draco could use wandless magic.

Bellatrix stepped aside. Her curse struck the unfortunate man who was standing behind her. The man clutched his throat and fell back. His eyes budged and began to bleed.

Bellatrix didn't look back. "I think it's time you and I did this the proper way Longbottom." She made a hand motion and the other death eaters stepped aside. "I don't know how you managed to get your magic working, but I don't suppose you would object to a duel. It follows your disgusting honor code doesn't it?" The poetry in her voice was gone, replaced with blind rage. She raised her wand before her. "So then boy, let's see which of us is the more clever."

Neville barely had time to deflect her first curse. He snarled, surprising himself because he'd never snarled at anyone before, and blasted his counter attack. He dropped and rolled away from another hex. Splinters shot from the wall and cut into his skin. At least that mean the hex hadn't hit Draco. Neville relaxed his muscles and allowed his reflexes to keep him alive while he tried to think of a plan.

Tried…but it was getting harder and harder to think of anything at all. He wondered if Bellatrix had hit him with something after all. His thoughts were foggy and filled him with a hot stinging sensation. Images of his parents kept slipping in; clear and sharp flashes.

An image of his mother. Smiling happily down at him, waving her wand over his head to make little stars. Neville hadn't even known he had that memory. Suddenly he knew. _Mom used to smile all the time._ His grandmother had told him that, but he'd never really understood. She'd rarely ever raised her voice, and she'd never yelled.

Now she hardly ever smiled at all. There was just the permanent shy look on her face. It wasn't even love anymore. There was nothing in her eyes. Alice didn't remember him; she only knew what people told her, that Neville was her son. So she gave small pats and nervous hugs to a boy she barely knew.

And his father, in the memory, Neville's father had a deep laugh. The kind, someone had told him once, that made other people want to laugh too, just because it sounded like such a good time.

The only laugh Neville had ever heard from him was dry and scared. Franks pleasant face had been creased with worry lines. He worried about everything. If a fly landed on the window, wasn't the glass too cold? If a nurse brought him a drink, wasn't it such a long way to walk? Neville had stubbed his toe on the hospital bed once and sent his father into a fit.

_She did that to them._ Bellatrix, the cold, sneering woman before him. _She took them away, she made them into something they hadn't been._ She'd changed them permanently.

_Someone should change her._ The vicious idea manifest itself in a tight boiling rage that coiled in Neville's stomach like a cobra. He rolled away from a curse and sprang to his feet. He fired something somehow, he didn't think he'd waved his wand at all. He charged right behind it, using it as a blinder. Conscious thought had ceased, he didn't even remember what spell he'd used.

He saw the surprise on the woman's face when he was suddenly right in front of her. Neville whipped the back of his fist across her face and kicked her ruthlessly in the stomach. Bellatrix went sprawling and crashed against a table that broke beneath her. She convulsed and vomited. Her left cheek bled and swelled, and some of her ribs had been broken.

None of that mattered. Because it was nothing compared to what she'd done to Frank and Alice. Two good people. _Mom and dad._ Neville stepped up to her, looking down in revulsion. It was like staring down into a cockroach nest.

_I hate her._ The realization was less surprising than some things. He raised his wand, mind blank. He had no idea what he planned on doing to her, and he didn't care. Something awful.

Then something else woke up inside him. Another emotion, colder than hate. It warned him.

He was changing himself, not her.

He was afraid. Afraid of himself. And he saw that feeling mirrored in the woman's eyes.

The bleeding, gasping, broken woman before him.

Neville dropped his wand, feeling light headed. He didn't hate her. He hated the things that she had done. He hated that he would never know his parents as others had. He hated that it wasn't fair.

But Bellatrix, he felt only pity for her.

Someone had changed her already. Long ago. He was much to late for that.

Neville stepped back, finding it was hard to breath. No one in the room moved while it spun. Neville saw the frozen death eaters, the shocked Draco. The loudest thing to his ears was the beating of his own heart, the rasping of his own breaths. _What did I almost do?_ He stumbled back, catching onto a shelf. _Oh Merlin, never again. Never. Again._ He'd been ready to kill her, or worse. For nothing more than revenge! His vision started to fade as he struggled keep upright.

Bellatrix surged to her feet. Neville was still too off balance to react. "_Avada Kedevra!" _Neville jerked in surprise. Draco started across the room.

Nothing happened. Her wand didn't even spark. Bellatrix roared in rage, dashing the piece of wood to the ground.

Neville found his eyes fixing on a new figure in the doorway.

Harry Potter, quite visible now, leaned against the door jam with his arms folded, surveying the scene. His green eyes settled on Bellatrix for a moment. Then he straightened and his arms fell to his sides. Harry stepped into the room. A dangerous silence followed him in.

Harry didn't look at Neville, but Neville knew that he'd seen enough, that Harry understood.

Harry looked around that the death eaters, one at a time.

This wasn't the Boy Who Lived. This wasn't the war hero the world looked to for salvation. This was Harry James Potter, and he was furious.

"None of you," he said quietly with a dizzying force behind his words "are welcome here. And I cast you from this place."

The resulting explosion made the entire house tremor. Exactly twenty three death eaters, alive or not, were forced magically from the walls of Godric's Hollow. Their bodies were literally ripped apart, flung outside, and put back together again. The wards worked like a more painful form of disapparation. None of them would be conscious when they went outside to collect the offenders.

Two, besides Harry and himself, remained. Bellatrix, wide eyed and coughing up small amounts of blood and vomit, was on her knees. She had remained behind because Harry had grabbed her by the hair at the last minute, nullifying the magic. Glazed and defeated eyes stared at Neville. Off to his right, Draco Malfoy leaned against the wall looking dazed. A nasty bruise was forming just below the one Neville had given him. From the way he was standing someone had done a job on his leg as well.

Neville swallowed and forced himself away from the shelf.

He stared right into the eyes of the woman who had broken his parents. "Bellatrix Lestrange." he said, his voice raspy and tired. "You are charged with the murder of no less than twelve people, the suspected murder of thirteen muggles and five wizards. And the torturing of Frank and Alice Longbottom to insanity." Along with a number of other crimes the courts would go over. "By Wizarding law, you will be detained by the court until a trial can be set and a verdict made. The punishment for your crimes are life in Azkaban, the stripping of your magic, or execution. Do you understand?"

Bellatrix nodded slowly. She didn't seem to realize she was making the motion.

Harry let go of her hair and muttered something under his breath. She fell unconscious to the floor. Neville looked at his friend, feeling empty and weak.

"Were there any casualties?" he asked.

"No, and few serious injuries were sustained. Nothing life threatening." Harry answered. Neville nodded and slumped back against the bookcase. The shelves dug into his back but he was too tired to care.

"Good." he breathed. He saw Harry's gaze travel over to Draco. Neville looked over as well. "He's on our side." he told Harry, looking Draco in the face.

The look Draco gave him back had no name. Though it remained distinctly…Malfoy. Neville exhaled.

"Well…lets go." He made his way slowly across the room, aching all over. Draco limped over to his side and glared at the unconscious form of Bellatrix.

"Ruddy bitch." he muttered.

Neville chuckled because he couldn't help himself. He was relieved. It was over.

Well, almost over. They needed to get back to the ministry. There were twenty four cells that needed filling and Draco's case had to be sorted out. Neville had to report to Scrimgeour, the old auror would want a first hand account.

The thought of walking into that office again made Neville only a little nervous. He jumped when someone put a hand on his shoulder.

Harry was smiling at him.

"You did good."

Neville smiled back. "Did I?"

Harry nodded.

†

_According to my sources, Neville accidentally dropped and smashed a teacup during his next visit to Scrimgeour's office. The head auror made a comment about Neville being nearly as dangerous to teacups as he was to cark wizards. _

_Draco Malfoy was cleared surprisingly quick of all charges and became an excellent auror himself. Apparently, even after five years under Voldemort, he hadn't managed to tack up a great many crimes on his own.. He disappeared again four years later. Rumor says he became an Unmentionable. The group of ministry officials who work in the department of mysteries and take care of the cases the ministry doesn't want anyone knowing about.Before his vanishing, Draco and Neville became decent friends…or at least non hostile acquaintances. _

_Neville Longbottom forgave Bellatrix for her crimes on the morning of her execution despite the protest of many other Ministry officials. Bellatrix died in tears._

_And when people asked Neville why he forgave Draco. Why, after all the years of cruelty from the Malfoy boy, he began to trust Draco and be his friend; Neville told them that Draco was more important as a person than some schoolboy grudge. "Everyone deserves a second change." he said. Because it was on first chances that people like Voldemort and Bellatrix were made. _

_That. Is the true story of the Great Neville Longbottom. That is why he really is great. _

_At least, that's what my dad tells me._

_Nicholas Potter  
__Year Four  
__History of Magic Essay_

* * *

Authors Note: 

If anyone is wondering about the oh so ambiguous Blood Magic in this story. I made it up, obviously, it's not from the cannon. I know I didn't go into a huge explanation as to what blood magic really is in the story and that's because I didn't want to. It wasn't necessary and it is purposefully not explained. Use your imagination, it means what you like.

If I screwed anything up from the Stories, like misusing Godric's Hollow, as a house and not a town, sorry. But this is fanfiction. If it makes you feel better pretend that was the name of the house too. I haven't read any of the stories in a long time.

Feel free to comment, constructive criticism is welcome. Flames are welcome to, but don't expect them to change my life.

I want to thank Maurielle, Sara (aka, Scarletjedi), Rachel, David, Sarah (with an h), Matt, Alecia and Kristi for their support in this story. They read and edited the original draft for me and weren't afraid to say "Hey you totally screwed this up." You guys rock/muah/ I dedicate this story to them.

/dramatic bow/ Thank you all for reading!

laughing serpent


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